


Home is Where . . .

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [22]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan has a surprise for Joyce</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Where . . .

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place about two weeks after the events of All Along the Watchtower.
> 
> Written by Sadbhyl, beta'd by Mydeira

Joyce held on tight to Ethan’s strong arm, unable to see through the blindfold he had insisted on as he guided her up an unfamiliar flight of stairs and down a hallway before he stopped her. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know,” she replied playfully. “Is it the kind of surprise I’m apt to like?”

He rubbed the smooth warmth of his hands along her arms. “I think so. It will satisfy this need you seem to have to see me tied down.”

She grinned beneath the blindfold.

He chuckled in response. “Metaphorically rather than literally. You know you can do the other any time you like.”

“We’ll discuss that later. For now I’d just like to know I’m not being stared at.”

“Fear not, my dear, it’s just you and me.” His lips ghosted along the column of her neck, making her shiver.

“So I can look now?” she asked breathlessly.

“Just a moment.” She heard a jingle of keys, a fall of tumblers and a door opening before his hand was back on her arm, guiding her through the door. Then his fingers gently worked the knot at the back of her head to remove the scarf with a flourish. “Voila!”

Joyce blinked her eyes open for the first time since she’d gotten into her car with him to find herself standing in the entry of a masculine living room. The woodwork was bare and stained a rich cherry, framing floor and windows and doorways, complementing the heavy wooden mantle surrounding the fireplace opposite the door. The walls were a rich forest green, bare of any art, and the floor was covered in layers of imported rugs. The furniture was heavy Mission style pieces, one long sofa upholstered in khaki wool under the picture window to her right with a leather upholstered chair facing it across the coffee table and a matching chair facing the fireplace. On the left wall a dining table was pushed up against the wall, book ended by a pair of white louver doors and an open passageway. The afternoon sunlight made all the wood glow with warmth.

“Ethan, this is lovely,” she said admiringly, looking about her. “You got us a hotel room for the afternoon?”

He chuckled. “No, this is actually my place.”

“Your . . .” she turned to him in amazement. “You actually took an apartment? When did this happen?”

“While you were sick. I realized I needed a base of operations closer to the action. This place was available and fairly ideal. I arranged for painters and the furniture, and moved in about two weeks before your surgery. It’s a bit sparse. I haven’t had much opportunity to personalize the place.”

“But I thought you stayed with Rupert after my surgery.”

“I did. He wanted me close at hand, and I’m not ready for him to know about this place.”

“Ethan . . .” she chided.

“No, Joyce,” he staved her off. “If I’m going to remain here, I need to know that it’s secure. My relationship with Ripper is still fairly volatile, and I don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to find him ready to murder me in my bed for something.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“He might, given the right incentive. I need your word, Joyce. I’ve made this place as secure as I can. I won’t tell you where it is without your guarantee that you won’t tell Rupert.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t like keeping secrets. From either of you.”

“I know you don’t.” He put his arms around her. “But wouldn’t it be worth it to know I’m within easy reach?”

She hesitated.

“How about this. If there is an emergency, or if I’ve done something so heinous you think I deserve to be punished, then I give you leave to tell him. After all, you are my conscience. I trust your judgment above mine or Rupert’s.”

She thought about it, hesitant to be caught between the two of them. But to always know where he was . . . “All right. For a little while. But I want you to reconsider. He’ll be very hurt if he finds out.”

“Better him than me.”

She sighed inwardly. No matter how much progress her lovers seemed to make, there was always this root of distrust between them. She sometimes doubted if they would ever be able to overcome it, or if that would be the vulnerability that finally broke them apart.

To him she smiled sympathetically and said, “So, do I get to see the rest of it?”

He kissed her lightly. “Your wish is my command.”

Pushing open the louver doors, he escorted her into a pristine kitchen. The wooden floor was painted a glossy white to match the cabinetry and appliances, while the walls were a soft lemon chiffon yellow. The glass front of the upper cabinets revealed simple white china and clear glassware. Even the toaster and coffeemaker were white and impeccably clean, as though they had just come out of the box. Perhaps they had.

The biggest shot of color came from the bay window at the end of the room, where a comfortable breakfast nook was laid out. The small oval table was set with two white wooden chairs opposite a long bench following the curve of the window. This was padded in a bright yellow majolica pattern which matched the swags over the plain white sheers of the window treatment. It was a very peaceful, if spartan, room.

Joyce couldn’t resist opening the refrigerator. A quart of milk, a box of eggs, a carton of orange juice and half a loaf of wheat bread all sat on the top shelf of an otherwise spotless compartment. She looked at him admonishingly.

“I don’t eat in much,” he shrugged. “There’s a bit more in the pantry.”

With a doubtful look, she turned and opened the pantry door to reveal several cans of soup, three tins of tea, some tuna fish and a box of pasta. She closed the door with a sigh. “I can see I’m going to have to send care packages home with you from now on.”

She was surprised to suddenly find herself pressed up against the wall. “Funny,” he murmured against her ear as he leaned into her with his whole length, “but I thought I’d brought my lover home, not my housekeeper. Did I make a mistake?”

It had been almost two months since she’d last felt the intimate touch of either of her lovers. She knew she had missed it, but wasn’t prepared for the wave of desperate longing that washed over her with his sensual onslaught. She shuddered, gasping, which made him pull back in surprise. But when he took in the expression on her face, his own look grew hungry. His eyes dark, he leaned forward and rumbled in her ear, “Or maybe you need a reminder.”

“Oh god, yes!” she whispered feveredly, pulling him tight against her as he crushed her mouth hungrily. She felt his tightly controlled intensity everywhere they made contact, in the palms of her hands where she cupped his head, in her lower back where he held her against him, along her hip and belly where she could feel his erection blossoming. She gasped when he nipped hard at her lip, and he used the opportunity to slip his hungry tongue past her teeth to caress sensually along her own. She whimpered and began tugging feverishly at the tails of his shirt, desperate for the feel of the velvet slide of his skin.

She squealed in surprise when he bent and scooped her up in his arms, clutching her arms around his neck. “I think the rest of the tour can keep,” he said as he carried her back into the living room and towards the open passage next to the fireplace. “I’ll remind you,” he hummed against her throat. “I’ll spend hours showing you exactly what I want from you, and I assure you it has absolutely nothing to do with the contents of my pantry.”

He kicked a door open, and she had only a moment to register burgundy red walls and a camel comforter on an enormous bed before he slid her down his length to stand again, holding her head as he coursed his lips along her throat and collar bone before pushing at her cardigan. “I love it when you wear these precious sweater sets.”

“Mmm?” She was busy working the buttons of his shirt, leaning forward to lip at the sensitive hollow at the base of his throat.

He growled in response. “My brazen little sex goddess in disguise.” The sleeveless shell hit the floor as well, and he coasted one hand up to palm her breast through the lace of her brassiere. “It amuses me to know people think of you as a conservative suburban business woman.”

His shirt finally joined hers on the floor, and she almost wept in relief at the feel of his bare skin after all this time. “I think it turns you on, too, doesn’t it?”

He smiled against her throat. “There’s very little about you that doesn’t.”

He freed the hooks on her bra and she shrugged it off, casting it aside before reaching for the buttons on his trousers, kicking off her shoes when he began working the clasp of her belt. Their mouths never stopped, taking turns exploring bared flesh before returning for slow, soul-deep kisses. Their pants hit the floor at the same time, Ethan with his usual economy of motion divesting her of her panties as well. He reached around her to cast back the comforter before gently pressing her back towards the bed.

The first touch of cold black satin against her back robbed her of breath with surprise, but as she moved back on the mattress, the fabric quickly warmed. He just watched her, grinning wickedly.

“Were you going to join me sometime today?”

His expression never changed as he admired her. “I knew that would be the perfect canvas to display you on.” He knelt on the mattress and crawled catlike up her body, barely resting his weight on her as he stroked her hair. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Blood suffused her skin at his fervent declaration, but she was prevented from protesting by his mouth. She tangled her fingers through his hair, curling one bare leg up over his hips to pull him closer. “Why don’t we save the foreplay for later?” she murmured between erotically enticing kisses.

He chuckled. “But that’s why it’s called _fore_ play, my dear. It’s supposed to happen beforehand.” But his complaint didn’t stop him from shifting his hips to center his beautiful cock at her opening.

She held him closer as he slowly pushed his way in. “I’ve just missed you so much,” she murmured against his ear. “Missed the feel of you inside me.” Every advance he made was followed by a short retreat, building the friction inside her to a heady level. “Oh yes god Ethan! You feel so good!”

He buried his face in the curve of her neck as his hips rocked in slow, deep strokes. She was surprised to feel tension running through him at a time when he was usually very supple and relaxed. She caught her thumbs under the hinges of his jaw and forced him to lift his head. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She was surprised to see an unfamiliar tinge of sorrow in his dark eyes. “We came so close to losing you.” The hoarseness in his voice had little to do with passion.

“Oh, baby, shh, shh.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her hand comfortingly on the soft waves of his hair. “I’m here, I’m okay.” She peppered light kisses over his face as she tangled her legs around his waist and thighs, holding him closer in every possible way, even clenching comfortingly along his cock buried inside her. “You saved me and I’m here. Can you feel me? I’m right here.” Gently she started rocking, resuming the comforting rhythm he had interrupted.

He pulled her even closer, burying himself deeper into her with every stroke, but the only sound he made was his ragged breathing, part exertion and part emotion. The physical was blissfully familiar to her, but the intense emotion was new, bringing a whole new level of intimacy to their joining. Joyce let it fill her, driving out all words so that they only communicated with their rising, surging bodies. She held nothing back from him, every sound, every sigh and gasp delivered straight into his ear as she came closer and closer to release. His own sounds of pleasure, rich, reverberating groans and growls, pushed her even further as his powerful arms held her close. With a soft cry somewhere between pain and pleasure he surrendered, spilling into her in short, choppy bursts. The force of it drove her over, her own release bucking her in his embrace, expanding her to encompass him before lapsing back into limp contentment.

They lay there joined for long moments, recovering their breath and their sanity, just enjoying the soft pressure of each other’s body.

She was surprised when, without saying a word, he very slowly slid the flat of his tongue up the column of her neck. She shivered when he repeated the action. Again. And again. It took her a moment to realize there was a direction to his action. He was very slowly, deliberately and erotically, cleaning the thin sheen of perspiration off her skin.

Finishing her throat, he moved down to the sensitive hollows of her collarbone before inching his body down to gently lave tender circles over the soft mounds of her breasts. He lingered at the most sensitive spots, along her ribs and the delicate skin underneath, until she could scarcely breathe. Just as she was ready to clutch his hair and drag him back up to her mouth, he relented and continued down onto the field of her stomach, working it in short, languid strokes like a cat cleaning its fur. She hummed in encouragement, petting his hair as he moved further and further down her body. He ripped a gasp from her lungs as he moved into the crease of her hip, never relenting as she twisted against him. He laid his hands on the prominences of her hips and, holding her down, shifted to the richer moisture between her thighs.

She mewled eagerly as his talented tongue carefully separated her folds before slowly exploring each in turn, re-familiarizing himself with every crevice. She slipped one leg under his arm to curl around his back, draping the other over his shoulder as she raised her arms over her head to grab hold of the square spindles and slowly start fucking herself on his face. He grinned against her before he began to nip sharply at her tender flesh, soothing the injury instantly with his soft, warm tongue. She felt release twisting up inside her, overwhelming her as he slowly drilled his tongue into her channel. Just when it seemed she couldn’t endure one more thing, he withdrew his tongue to suck her clit hard between his teeth.

She writhed against him as orgasm exploded within her, the leverage her grip on the headboard gave her overcoming his ability to restrain her. She thought she heard him chuckle as he moved quickly back up her body to hold her close as she twitched and twisted against him, trailing gentle kisses over her face and neck. Finally she was able to suck in deep breaths again, became aware again of the feel of his body pressed into hers. His cock stood at prominent attention, pressing against the soft muscle of her thigh, although he seemed to be giving it little regard.

Somehow, that just didn’t seem right.

With the last of her strength she pushed him, flipping them so their positions were reversed. His hands curled around her waist as he bit his lip hungrily.

He didn’t have to wait long.

With a shimmy of her hips she centered him, making her gasp slightly, the soft sound he always elicited just before penetrating her. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and sank down on him as slowly as she could manage. He let out a soft growl himself, and she reveled in his cocked back head and closed eyes and partially open mouth, signs of her power over him. To have this much control over a man as powerful as him was intoxicating and she responded to it, riding him harder and harder, working to wring every possible reaction she could from him. He moved one hand over her stomach and up to cup her breast, gently thumbing over the nipple before continuing up to curl around her neck and pull her down to him. She resisted him, but that only made him pull harder, a wicked glint of challenge in his dark eyes. Finally she surrendered and let him draw her down as their bodies continued moving together, their mouths eager and gentle as their chests rubbed against each other. “Joyce,” he groaned, raising his hips harder to plunge into her deeper and faster. She gasped, the angle sending electric pulses through her with each stroke. The deep thrusts, the musky scent of his skin, the taste of herself on his lips, the soft slapping sound of their damp skin impacting and his natural grunts overwhelmed her senses. She cried out and buried her face in his shoulder as she came again, feeling him clutch her to him tightly as his own release took him as well.

Gentle kisses and soft caresses eased them back into reality. He slid her off him but held her tenderly close, kissing her hair while she did the same to his chest. Finally she looked up into his soft, satisfied eyes. “I missed you.”

He ran his thumb over her tender lips. “I’ve missed you too, my darling girl.”

She nestled closer against him, every muscle pleasantly lax. “I approve your choice in bed linens,” she said tranquilly.

She felt his chest rumble at his quiet laugh. “I thought you might.”

As her surroundings slowly came back into focus, she took the opportunity to look around. Like the rest of the apartment, the woodwork remained bare, accented by the rich red of the walls. Four narrow, paneled doors lined the wall adjacent to the door, leading presumably to closet space running the length of the room. Windows framed the bed, letting in the late afternoon sunlight over the small side tables positioned beneath them. The corner opposite the bed held a chair matching the two in the living room, this one upholstered in camel colored chenille to match the duvet. To either side of it, backed against the walls were two large dressers, the one opposite the bed mounted with a large mirror. Like the rest of the apartment, there was no art on the walls, a situation Joyce realized she would need to correct. “I didn’t realize you were such a clothes horse.”

“Hmm?”

“You have a closet twice the size of mine and Buffy’s combined _and_ two enormous dressers. Whatever do you put in all of it?”

“Just how acquisitive do you think I am?” he purred against her hair. “That one’s for you.” He gestured towards the mirrorless bureau.

She pressed herself up in surprise. “Me?”

He smirked, never opening his eyes. “When have I ever let Rupert outdo me? I know you keep clothes at his flat. Wanted you to have some space here.” He finally cracked his eyes open to meet her gaze. “There’s something in there for you already if you want to look.”

She held out for all of three seconds before squealing like a child and clambering off the bed. The top drawer slid open easily to reveal a package of carefully folded gray tissue paper topped with a cluster of quartz crystals on the end of a short key chain. She brought the whole thing over to the bed to unwrap. Ethan rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his fist, watching her with an amused grin. She set the crystal aside to carefully unwrap the tissue to reveal even more carefully folded red silk which resolved itself into a decadent robe when she lifted it by the shoulders. “Oh, Ethan,” she gasped. “This is so lovely!”

“Much more suitable to your kittenish persona than those unadventurous sweater sets.” His eyes darkened as she slipped it on. “Oh yes, that’s much better.”

Her expression turned sultry as she knelt on the bed, knuckling up to him. “You like it?” she purred gently.

He dropped his eyes to look pointedly down her cleavage. “It definitely makes for a lovely view.” He reached for her, but instead of pulling her to him, he turned her around to nestle against his chest. “Now pay attention.” He offered her the keychain. “This key is for the door at the bottom of the stairs, and this one is for the front door.”

She was taken aback. “You’re giving me the keys to your apartment?” Just saying it made her heart flutter.

“No, you daft bint, I’m giving you the keys to Buckingham Palace.”

His tone was teasing and not malicious, so she just slapped his arm. “And are you going to tell me where we are? Or should I just try these in every door in town until I find the right one?”

“You know, I think Rupert and I left you alone entirely too long. You’ve gotten a fresh mouth on you.”

She just grinned impishly and showed him how fresh her mouth was.

He was gently fingering her hair when she ended the kiss. “Three seventy-nine Howard Street.”

“Hmm?”

He tucked one tendril behind her ear, letting his fingers continue down her throat. “The address. Three seventy-nine Howard Street, apartment C. The owner has the entire first floor, and there’s a young couple across the hall and three college students in the attic. Now pay attention, this is important.” He pressed the crystal into her hand. “If something happens, if you get in trouble and need help, use this. It will bring me right away. Doesn’t matter where you are, it doesn’t matter where I am, this will get me there.”

She studied it, then looked at him curiously. “Is this the ring through your nose I’ve always wanted?”

He closed her fingers over it, sealing her fist with a kiss. “Something like that. But only emergencies, yeah?”

She rolled it in her hand, taking in the seriousness of his expression. “I’ll remember, I promise.” She reached back and set the crystal and keys on the bedside table. When she turned back her playful expression was back. “You know, there’s a lot of space in that dresser. I’m sure Rupert could keep some things here, too.”

“Joyce . . .”

“Oh come on,” she wheedled, laying over him so her breasts rested on his chest and the red silk spilled around him as she traced the lines of his face. “Don’t you think he’d look so good tied down to this bed, all vulnerable and at our mercy . . .” She bit at his lips temptingly.

Tangling his fingers through her hair again, he tugged fiercely at her scalp in a manner designed to make her shiver. “I’ll think about it. But you have to give me some time. You’re easier to let in than he is.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, sliding her calf in along the inside of his thigh. “You know we’ll both make it worth the sacrifice.”

He moved suddenly, flipping her onto her back, making her squeal softly in surprise as he pressed her into the mattress. “I make my deals with the two of you individually. That way I can be more confident of the outcomes.” This time when his mouth came down on hers, it was rough and crushing.

She reveled in it, biting at his lips and clawing at his back with the soft pads of her fingers. “I just have one question,” she whispered as her teeth clipped down on his ear.

“What’s that?” he replied, grinding down into her pelvis.

She pulled back to smile up at him innocently. “Where’s your bathroom?”


End file.
